


Kriegsspiel -- Merrels

by MelayneSeahawk



Series: Kriegsspiel [1]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-14
Updated: 2010-07-14
Packaged: 2017-10-10 13:41:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/100383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelayneSeahawk/pseuds/MelayneSeahawk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Atlantis landed, the world was thrown into chaos. Newly-elected American President Michael Taylor shut down the Stargate Program in the hope of appeasing the international community. But something is wrong, and soon the remaining members of the SGC are forced to flee through the 'gate before more of their numbers disappear. Cut off from allies and resources, the survivors turn to galactic piracy to survive--and to arm themselves for a return to Earth, unsure what they will find. Who was really behind the dismantling of the SGC? Is there something more sinister on the horizon? Can SG-1 get to the bottom of the conspiracy and save the world one more time?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to indywind and llian for cheerleading, and to theemdash and secondalto for beta services. Thanks also to mckays_lab, allandaros, and H for help with the hard sci fi terminology, technology, and tactics; to zats_clear for advice on the Cam voice; to princessofg for pacing assistance; and to theemdash and muck_a_luck for assorted help and listening to me spaz. Thanks also go to my father, who helped me arrange my thoughts on the main plot of this story. This would never have been finished without you all!
> 
> This fic was written under the influence of Talking Heads, Bruce Springsteen, and the _Firefly_ soundtrack. Take that how you will.

"Have you seen the front page of the _Washington Post_ yet?" Jack asked as soon as Daniel picked up the phone.

"You know I read the _New York Times_," Daniel said, a little groggy like he always was in the mornings. "Better crossword."

"But I know you get them both." Daniel grumbled something incomprehensible and Jack could hear the shuffling of newsprint as Daniel closed one paper and freed the other from its bag. A moment of silence as Daniel read, and then there was a crashing sound. "Daniel?"

"He's shutting us down!" Daniel said, and Jack relaxed just a fraction. Coffee mugs could be replaced. "How can he shut us down? What part of 'first, last, and only defense' does this man not understand? What about all the research we could be doing now that we're not at war!"

"The program's too controversial right now." Jack knew it wasn't going to do a thing to calm Daniel down, but what else could he say? "And it's just a temporary thing, until the world stops hyperventilating. Maybe this'll give you time to get some work done on that backlog of yours," he teased gently.

"Fuck the backlog!" Daniel said, and Jack blinked. It wasn't like Daniel cursing was rare, or even uncommon, but it was always for a reason. "This…man achieved overnight what Kinsey spent eight years trying to do."

"Have you been paying attention at all?" Jack asked. "The world's all but exploded since Area 51 was destroyed and Atlantis landed. Publicly landed, like something out of Star Trek."

Daniel snorted, likely at the sci-fi reference. "It looks like they were lucky to have escaped," he said, with that tone that usually accompanied a pout. He'd deny it, of course, and Jack wasn't in the mood to antagonize him by pointing it out.

"It's a wise move, politically. Shut down the big scary thing until everyone can sit down and talk about it. You're all going to be able to keep doing your work, you just can't go through the 'gate."

"That's where it starts, yeah. Don't say I didn't warn you." There was a moment of tense silence, probably as he skimmed the rest of the article. "Jack, did you back this?" he asked, low and dangerous, and a wholly inappropriate thrill went up Jack's spine.

"He just sprang it on us," Jack admitted. He probably wouldn't have confessed that to anyone else, but he'd never been able to lie to Daniel for long when the fate of the world wasn't at stake. "We had a meeting about it last night, but that was it."

"Can he do that?" Daniel asked over some strange crunching sounds. Jack assumed he was cleaning up the broken mug. "I would have thought, as head of Homeworld, you'd have to OK it."

"The President," Jack reminded him, "went through the IOA, actually. Brought their weight to bear, so there wasn't much I could do. Even if I had wanted to, which I don't," he added quickly. "He made the right call, you'll see."

Jack had no trouble imagining the look on Daniel's face, and winced. He loved the man, but he had no illusions that he was stubborn, sometimes to a fault. There was silence on the other end of the line, but Jack could practically hear Daniel fuming.

"It's a little too _1984_ for my taste, Jack," he said finally, with a calculated levity that Jack could see right through. "I'm sure I'll be telling you 'I told you so' soon enough." He sighed. "Are you still coming to Colorado next week?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Jack said lightly. "Though I have the feeling I'll be sitting in meetings with most of it before then."

Daniel chuckled, and Jack knew what the other man wasn't saying was _Serves you right_.

*

"The IOA has decided that we're going to continue monthly check-ins with Atlantis, but other than that, the 'gate won't be used," General Landry said. "All research departments will continue their work on whatever devices and artifacts are on base, and the military component will be on standby until more permanent plans can be made. I want to remind everyone that this is a temporary state of affairs. President Taylor and the IOA hope that a show of good faith will reassure the international community of both the SGC's intentions and its usefulness."

Daniel sighed and looked around the briefing room. The table was full: Landry at one end, with Mitchell on his right as base second-in-command and representative of the armed forces section along with each of the SG team leaders; Sam was there as head of hard sciences, Teal'c representing the alien liaisons, and Daniel as head of Xenoarcheology and Linguistics, with representatives from most of the other departments as well. It was pretty clear that no one was happy with this turn of events. Even Teal'c was openly frowning.

"Is there any estimate as to how long this is going to last?" Sam asked, beating Daniel to the question.

"Not yet," Landry said, and he had the decency to look apologetic. "But I'll keep you updated with anything I hear."

"What of those who are not Tau'ri?" Teal'c asked. "I am not the only member of the alien staff who has a family offworld." Vala—Daniel wasn't quite sure what department she was supposed to be with—looked about to chime in, but Teal'c quelled her with a glance. Now was not the time for her type of theatrics.

"I'm not sure," Landry said, looking more uncomfortable by the minute. "It's my intention to clarify that as soon as possible. I don't believe our guests and contractors should be trapped here just because we're in an admittedly difficult situation. General O'Neill and I plan to meet with the IOA in the next few weeks."

To Daniel, Teal'c's expression clearly said that this wasn't good enough, but Landry didn't seem to see it. "I'm sure that we'd all be willing, happy even, to go to Washington and speak to the IOA and the special UN committee," Daniel said, aiming for diplomacy. This was not the time to start yelling. People around the table were nodding emphatically.

"The IOA believes that the best course of action right now would be for us to keep a low profile," Landry said. "They're worried that we'll only make things worse if we come off too defensive. But," he said, cutting off protests from Daniel, Sam, and Kovachek from SG-9, the diplomatic unit, "I will certainly keep that in mind, and I will push for that as soon as it looks like it may turn public opinion in our favor. Now, we have new copies of the confidentiality agreements, in case any of you are approached by the press." The packets circulated around the table. "As always, try as much as you can to defer any members of the press to Homeworld Security and Major Davis, but if that is impossible, this is a list of topics you are allowed to discuss. Please forward it to all members of your staff."

Daniel flipped through the list, frowning. Nothing about Ernest Littlefield and the first experiments with the 'gate, but they were allowed to talk about the first trip, with an emphasis on the "destruction of a galactic enemy". The return to Abydos was also allowed, but only the part about Apophis coming through first, and the SGC following as a defensive measure. The majority of the rest of their missions weren't on the list, as well as most of the information they'd learned over the years about human history. Nothing about the Ori, or the fact that the thwarted pandemic a few years prior had an extraterrestrial origin. They were allowed to talk about the destruction of the System Lords and about their allies, though not the fact that most of those allies were dead or unreachable. It was laughable, really.

"It's very important right now for us to provide a united front," Landry was saying. "The only way we'll be able to reopen the 'gate is with the permission of a bunch of very scared men and women, and we must do everything we can to see that that happens."

Daniel couldn't help but see that as a threat.


	2. Chapter 2

Some days, Jack wished he could ignore the rational part of his brain that told him that it would be a very bad idea to start threatening the UN delegates—at gunpoint—to get them to just shut up and _listen_. They'd been hung up for three days on the fact that certain countries had known about the 'gate before the big reveal after Atlantis landed, and it didn't look like they would be getting over it and moving on any time soon. Under the table, Jack clenched one hand into a tight fist, the slight ache in his joints from the pressure temporarily distracting him.

Jack didn't quite know what he was doing there, honestly. Diplomacy was never exactly his strong suit; he could think of dozens of times when his form of diplomacy had made things worse, rather than better. He was head of Homeworld, sure, but this PR thing had always been Davis' game, since as far back as those first negotiations with the Russians. But Taylor had requested his presence specifically, so Jack had cleared his schedule and prepared to grin and bear it.

He knew he wasn't bearing up so well.

Jack brought his attention back to the room. "What we don't understand," one of the ambassadors was saying, "is why this was not taken to the UN when it was first put to use." The ambassador was from one of those little Latin American countries Jack pretended he couldn't keep track of, and he spoke like someone who'd grown up speaking Spanish and then learned English at Oxford. It made Jack think of banana republics and other things he didn't want to remember. "This is just another case of American imperialism, this time on an even larger—"

Jack's chair clattered as he pushed it back to stand, slamming his hands on the table. "I don't know how many times we have to say this," he said, bending down so the mic picked him up. He could see the translators in the top row, and wished quite fiercely that Daniel was there to help smooth all this out. "We shut the 'gate down after that first mission, and it was only reopened after an alien incursion threatened the safety of the planet. The program became more international once we had some time to stop and breathe. The United States has made no moves to colonize. The only offworld bases we've set up are research facilities, and they're staffed by crews of scientists from all over the world."

"But why weren't we told—" another ambassador began, but Jack held up a hand. He wasn't sure who was more surprised: the ambassador for being so rudely interrupted, or Jack himself because the man actually _shut up_.

"What your governments may or may not have told you is between you and your leaders," Jack said. "We've been lying to our own people for 70 years, if you count from when the 'gate was first brought here, and I'm glad we get to stop now." He realized he was yelling and took a breath to calm down a little. "We've made some amazing allies," he said, thinking regretfully of Thor for a moment, "and made some truly incredible discoveries. If you could see what it's like out there—a whole galaxy full of people and cultures—it puts all our petty infighting into perspective.

"And we did all of this while fighting for our survival as a species, against enemies you can't even comprehend. We didn't stop to notify everyone because we were _busy saving all your asses_."

Jack half expected that the front row could hear how hard his heart was pounding in the shocked silence that followed.

"I think it's time for a break, everyone," President Taylor said after a few long moments, turning to the President of the General Assembly. "Mr. President, I think we might want to just continue tomorrow?" President d'Escoto nodded and went about the process required to finish for the day, and Jack sat down heavily.

"Thanks, Jack," Taylor said softly, leaning over and putting his hand over Jack's mic. "I think I might actually get them to negotiate now." Jack looked at Taylor, but the man's expression gave nothing away. "I know you're headed to Colorado tonight to make sure no one's getting too restless…"

"I can reschedule if you need me here," Jack said, wincing internally. Daniel would kill him, but it wasn't exactly like he could say no to the President of the United States.

Taylor shook his head, with an odd smile. "No, I think your presence here has served its purpose. We'll have a meeting when you get back, though, so you can update me on the situation over there."

"Yes, sir," Jack said. He remained seated while Taylor got up and followed the rest of the departing ambassadors. For some reason, he felt manipulated.


	3. Chapter 3

"So, what are they going to do with us?" Vala asked, from her perch on the corner of Jackson's lab table. Cam noticed distantly that she seemed to be wearing new shoes. He thought he'd remember something that shade of neon pink.

"What, SG-1?" Jackson asked. He seemed distracted.

"Teal'c and Vala," Sam said. "And Nyan and Tibureon and Dr. Ber'et and everyone else who's technically an offworlder. And what about the ones living separately from the Program entirely? What about Cassie?"

"Well, I know Teal'c and most of the scientists are technically refugees, using Earth as an asylum," Cam said. He hated to be the rules guy; he preferred to be the one bending the ones he didn't agree with.

Sam tossed him a quick smile. "Yes, but since their presence was a secret up until Atlantis' landing, the government could chose to revoke those rights. Stranger things have happened."

Jackson nodded, his frown suddenly vicious. Cam hadn't seen that look in a while; not since the last time they'd faced down a Prior, at least.

"We are no longer allowed to travel offworld to visit with our families on the other side of the chappa'ai," Teal'c said. Cam bristled. He'd thought it was the case, but it made him angry to hear it; family was everything. "I have been unable to communicate with the Jaffa Council, with the exception of an advisement that the Tau'ri would be…walking silent until the current unrest is resolved."

"Have you talked to General Landry?" Sam asked.

Cam was pleased to realize that he recognized the tilt of Teal'c's eyebrow as incredulous. "Indeed. He told me the situation would improve with time."

"But it's been weeks already," Cam said, dropping the pen he'd been fiddling with and leaning forward in his chair. "How long do they expect you to wait?"

"I do not know."

"I think the whole situation is quite ridiculous," Vala said. "Your United States opened the 'gate first, you have claim to it."

Jackson discreetly rolled his eyes. "On Earth, we don't adhere to the rules of 'finders, keepers'. At least not once we've left puberty."

"Jackson, if that were true, you'd be out of a job," Cam said, and Sam laughed. Jackson frowned at them, but didn't comment. "Don't know about the rest of the universe, but here on Earth, folks tend to be a little…too cautious about what they don't understand."

"Cautious is not the word I'd use," Jackson said "Fear makes people do stupid, dangerous things." From Sam's expression, Cam had a feeling that this was the beginning of a very old argument. "We should be glad that no one's decided to declare war on us."

Vala crossed her arms over her chest. "It's like a bunch of children fighting over a toy."

"Yes, it is," Jackson said. "I guess some things truly are universal."

*

Daniel was surprised how tired Jack looked when he met him at the airport in Denver. Jack had flown commercial rather than military, which Daniel knew he hated, but that still didn't explain the almost defeated air Jack had about him. "Hey," Daniel said as Jack stopped in front of him.

Jack forced a smile. "Hey. I'm pooped. Can we get out of here?"

"Sure, no problem," Daniel said quickly. Usually, Jack would never admit there was anything amiss, even when he was on the verge of collapse. Clearly, there was something wrong. But he'd seemed so cheerful on the phone, even if it was clear he was frustrated by the meetings he'd been sitting in. "I haven't had dinner yet. Do you want to stop and get something on the way?"

"You've got food in your fridge, right?" Jack asked, and Daniel nodded. "I just need to be somewhere where there aren't a whole lot of people, ok?"

Nodding, Daniel took Jack's carry-on, amazed when Jack didn't protest. They walked in silence out to Daniel's Jeep in short-term parking. Daniel tossed Jack's bag in the back seat and they climbed in. "Radio?" Daniel asked, but Jack shook his head. The car ride was silent, and Daniel wouldn't have called it comfortable. What was going on?

Daniel pulled into his parking space, and the odd silence persisted in the staircase up to Daniel's apartment. Once they were inside, he put down Jack's bag and turned to face him. "Ok, I haven't seen you this quiet since that time the people on PA9-724 put a silencing collar on you. What's wrong?"

"Just a really, really long week. You'd be surprised how much energy it takes to control one's murderous impulses for eight hours a day."

"I'm guessing that special UN committee isn't going so well, then."

"All they do is _talk_." Jack kicked off his shoes and tossed his jacket over an available chair. "And they don't even say anything, they just make noise. A room full of tape players repeating the same phrases would be about as productive." Daniel chuckled slightly at the mental image, but Jack didn't seem to notice. "I hate it," he said, easing himself into the chair with a sigh. "I yelled at the ambassadors of Venezuela and Mozambique today."

"You did _what_?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Jack said, laying a hand over his eyes. "I just want to eat something and go to sleep, preferably naked, in that gargantuan bed of yours, with you next to me."

Daniel knelt in front of Jack and cupped his face. "I think that can be arranged. You just stay here and I'll toss something together."

"Thanks." Jack turned his head slightly to press a kiss into Daniel's palm. "I know we usually throw ourselves at each other the moment we're alone together, but do you think we could hold off until later? Not all of us think about sex 24/7 anymore."

"Speak for yourself, old man," Daniel teased, gratified when Jack smiled slightly. He leaned up—ignoring the creaking in his knees—and kissed Jack gently, a welcome home kiss. "I think I could stand a rain-check." He kissed Jack again and stood, going into the kitchen to make dinner.

And when he poked his head out of the kitchen half an hour later to announce that dinner was ready, Jack was asleep, head tipped back and snoring. Daniel shook his head ruefully; he'd been sleeping next to this man for twelve years, an overlapping seven in tents and eight in beds, and he still couldn't convince him that he snored. Daniel crept into the room, making just enough noise to keep from tripping Jack's mental alarms, tucked a pillow under his head to prevent a crick, and let him sleep.

*

Jack woke to a gentle shaking of his shoulder and Daniel's voice calling his name. "Huh?"

"Wake up, Jack, it's time to go to bed," Daniel said, smiling at him.

"Whu?"

"You fell asleep while I was making dinner," Daniel said. "Do you want to eat something, or do you just want to go back to sleep?"

Jack yawned and stretched, rolling his shoulders and mentally thanking Daniel for his foresight with the pillow. "I'd be interested in going to bed," he said, waggling his brows to make Daniel laugh.

"You got it," Daniel said, reaching down a hand and hauling him out of the chair. Jack cupped Daniel's face as he stood, planting a kiss on him once he was upright. If their earlier kiss was a gentle hello, this one was much more passionate, and a promise of more to come. "Yeah, that can definitely be arranged," Daniel said, a little breathlessly, after they separated. He grabbed Jack's hand and practically dragged him down the hall to the bedroom, pushing him down onto the bed. "Have I told you recently how much I miss you?" Daniel asked, in between kissing Jack's mouth, cheeks, and neck.

"Oh, only once a day, sometimes twice," Jack said, his tone light but his fingers digging into Daniel's shoulders. He slid his hands down Daniel's back and started to strip off his t-shirt.

"I hate this long-distance thing." Daniel pulled back just long enough for Jack to free him of his shirt before diving back in to divest Jack of his shirt, too. "Really, really hate it."

"Me, too, babe," Jack said, slipping out of his shirt and going to work on Daniel's jeans. "I don't want to talk about it right now. I just want to enjoy being together."

Daniel nodded and fastened his mouth on that _one spot_ on Jack's neck that made his toes curl and his fingers grab the sheets. Whoever said that good sex was indicated by a need to hang onto the sheets for fear of falling off had been one hundred percent right. Daniel curled his tongue over one of Jack's nipples and Jack let out a rather embarrassing squeak. Daniel looked up at him, eyes smiling since his mouth was busy, and bit down just like Jack liked. This never, ever got old, and most of the time it was even better than when this was still new because they knew _exactly_ what set the other off. Jack wouldn't trade it for anything.

"D-daniel," Jack gasped. "S-slow down. I can't do this three times a night anymore, you know."

Daniel leaned up and kissed him softly, but with heat. "I can do slow." Together, they stripped each other down until they were naked and pressed together, their clothes a pile on the floor. Daniel buried his face in the crook of Jack's shoulder. "I know we don't say it very much, but I do love you. I hope you know that."

"Oh, I do," Jack said, smoothing a hand over Daniel's hair. After a few minutes, he stroked his hand down over Daniel's shoulders and then down his side as far as he could reach. "I can tell." Daniel looked up at him, and Jack kissed him softly. "Are you ok? You're kind of…I dunno, gloomy?"

"I'm worried," Daniel said, tangling his fingers in Jack's chest hair and pressing his palm against Jack's chest. "Things are changing at work, and I don't like the direction they seem to be going in. It's kind of bleeding all over everything else."

Jack rolled them so that Daniel was flat on his back, looking up at him. "This is safe, Daniel," he said, pressing his hips down into Daniel's, gratified when the man beneath him gasped. He shifted his hips minutely until the angle was perfect and pressed again. "This isn't going away. The only way this is going to change is for the better, you hear me?" Daniel nodded, groaning. "I love you, Daniel, and that is never going to change."

Daniel reached up and grabbed Jack's ass, pulling them even tighter together. "If you love me, _move_," he gasped out, and Jack grinned, swooping down for a kiss that left them both breathless. He started to build a rhythm to his thrusts, Daniel pushing up to match them. The friction was almost too much for a while, until there was enough sweat and precome between them to act as lubricant. Daniel lifted one knee to brace his foot against the bed and push up harder, matching Jack's hard, torturously slow thrusts. Jack prided himself on knowing exactly what Daniel needed, and right now Daniel needed to be taken out of his head for a little bit. Jack knew exactly how to do it.

Jack pressed his lips to the pulse in Daniel's neck, speeding up the movement of his hips slightly. Soon enough he could tell that Daniel was on the edge, and he sped up even more. He shifted his head to press his tongue to the hollow at the base of Daniel's throat and Daniel came, head tipped back, the skin under Jack's tongue vibrating as he yelled. The slide of their hips became even easier when Daniel's come was added to the mix and Jack kept moving, simultaneously drawing out Daniel's orgasm and drawing closer to his own. Daniel seemed to pull himself together just enough to tangle his sweaty fingers in Jack's hair and pull him down into a kiss and Jack came, hips stilling and back going ramrod straight, groaning Daniel's name against his lips.

After a few moments, Jack collapsed down onto Daniel, a full-body press—

*

_The woman has dark hair, down to her shoulders and slightly wavy. Her back is to him, so all he sees is her hair and the gentle slope of her shoulders. Everything is hazy, but over her shoulder he thinks he sees people kneeling in front of her, some with their foreheads against the ground, others looking up at her. He can't see their faces, but somehow he_ knows _that they are looking at her in adoration. Somewhere deep inside he feels a wave of disgust._

She laughs, the sound echoing eerily. "You Earthers are so amusing," she says, touching the nearest kneeling figure on the head, as if in benediction. She begins to turn and—

*

—holding Daniel in place. Daniel's answering gasp was not a good sound, and Jack got up immediately, scanning Daniel's face. "Did it happen again?" he asked.

Daniel nodded, turning his head to stare at the wall. "I don't care if they're remnants of memories from when I was Ascended, they're really annoying."

Jack placed a hand on Daniel's cheek and gently turned his head so that Daniel was forced to look him in the eye. He leaned down to press a kiss to Daniel's jaw. "No more worrying, not about the Program, not about this." Jack said against his ear. "Whatever happens, it's going to be alright. Alright?"

Daniel nodded limply and Jack smiled, licking the outermost curve of Daniel's ear, laughing when Daniel protested weakly. With a grunt, Jack hauled himself up just long enough to get a damp washcloth from the bathroom to clean them both off before tossing it on the floor and climbing back into bed.

He was asleep before his head hit the pillow, content in that knowledge that Daniel was beside him, so he was _home_.


	4. Chapter 4

Daniel had been past SG-2's shared office, up to the gym, back down to the commissary, and finally found himself in the control room, where the techs pretended they weren't playing video games until they realized it was him and not someone less permissive.

"Walter, do you know where Major Griff is? Or anyone else from SG-2," he added. "I'm working on something from a mission they went on, and I've got some questions."

"Oh, didn't you hear?" Walter said. "SG-2 was shipped out."

"What? Where? When did this happen?"

"A few days ago," one of the other techs—Jones, the name badge said—said. "I think they were sent to Iraq. With all their S&amp;R experience, someone thought it would be a good idea to send them overseas to train the troops."

Daniel turned to Walter. "Do you know who ordered this?"

"General Landry was told to choose a team to send," he replied. "The order came from the IOA, to put the purely military teams to use other places. They shouldn't be gone more than a few weeks."

"If they don't get killed over there," Daniel said darkly. "Thanks, guys." Walter and Jones nodded and went back to their games. Daniel walked up the stairs to the briefing room and knocked on the door to General Landry's office.

Daniel opened the door at the request to 'come in'. Looking up, Landry put down his pen, and offered a weak smile. "Dr. Jackson, what can I do for you?" Landry said, folding his hands.

Daniel stepped inside and closed the door, ignoring Landry's indication that he should sit. "I've heard SG-2 has been transferred overseas," he said without preamble.

"Yes, along with SG-5 and SG-8."

"I thought the 'gate shutdown was temporary," Daniel said, leaning, straight-armed, on the back of the nearest chair. "Why are people being transferred?"

"Only the military personnel," Landry said. Daniel didn't find that the slightest bit reassuring. "The scientific personnel have plenty of work with the shutdown, but the purely military personnel have been twiddling their thumbs. The IOA suggested that they could be loaned to other operations, and the Joint Chiefs jumped on the idea. They see our teams as specialized, highly trained personnel who can be used to train the troops in our military operations in the Middle East, both in combat techniques and cultural understanding. I've been told that when the Program is reactivated, all of our personnel will be returned."

"But they're assuming it's going to be more like months until we reopen, rather than weeks," Daniel said. "That's not the impression we were given when the announcement was first made."

"I know you and General O'Neill are good friends, I'm sure he's told you that the negotiations are going rather poorly," Landry said. Daniel looked at him sharply, but the words seemed to be straightforward.

"Why don't we send some of our negotiators," Daniel said. "SG-9 has arranged peace treaties that ended interplanetary wars. I'm sure they'd be able to help."

"I'm not sure it would," Landry said with a sigh. "Think of how it would look, Dr. Jackson. We'd come across as self-serving, and it would reflect badly on the President's efforts. For right now, the best thing for us to do is to keep a low profile and try to make ourselves look harmless and useful."

Daniel snorted in disbelief. "Thank you for your time, _sir_," he said. He left the office, just barely managing to resist the urge to slam the door on his way out.

*

"Talk to me about something. Anything but people being transferred."

"Daniel." Jack sighed, tucking the phone tighter between his chin and shoulder and crossing his hands behind his head. He stared up at the bedroom ceiling, absently noticing the way passing cars changed the pattern of strips of light on his ceiling.

"I mean it, Jack," Daniel said, and Jack heard a slamming sound that was probably Daniel emphatically closing a book. "I'm just so furious all the time I can barely see straight."

"Apparently, the First Lady has this amazing new personal trainer."

Daniel snorted. "Should have known you'd take it down to celebrity gossip, the lowest common denominator," he said, but Jack could tell he was smiling a little.

"Hey, I could be talking about reality television."

"True. But I've given up watching the news. Too depressing. And I've been working, anyway."

"I distinctly remember someone saying 'fuck the backlog' when all this started," Jack said, and then winced. Wrong thing to say. "Sorry."

"No, it's alright," Daniel said, and Jack could picture him: taking off his glasses with his free hand and rubbing the bridge of his nose, his frown throwing the creases in his forehead into stark relief. The years had been kinder to him than they had to Jack, but when he was tired or upset Daniel almost looked his age. "It's hard to get away from."

"Well, there's some good news," Jack said cautiously. "The committee's decided it _might_ be okay to reopen the Program, but they're debating moving the base to a more neutral location. They can't decide where to put it, though."

Daniel huffed a breath. "There's nowhere on Earth that's neutral," he said. "Not even either of the poles. And I'm not commuting back and forth to the Moon every day."

Jack couldn't help but laugh at that one, and he could hear Daniel's soft chuckle in response. "I'll be sure to suggest that to the President. The IOA's sent a representative, I'm not sure if you've heard. It's helped a little—she got us to this point—but it's slow-going."

"And every day I come to work more people are gone. They're getting rid of the most recent batch of scientific contractors, offering them compensation for cutting their contracts short or sending them to other positions. Landry says the military wants to get its money's worth out of them," he added dismissively.

"There's a certain rationale to that…" Jack suggested, but even he knew it was weak. If the Program was functioning, they would have plenty of work to do; it was why they'd been hired in the first place. "Daniel, what do you want me to do?"

"Nothing," Daniel said, and he sounded about a hundred years old. It made Jack's heart hurt. "There's nothing more you can do. You're there, you're a voice for _our_ interests, it'll have to be enough."

"I wish I could do more. You know that, right?"

"Of course I do."

"I thought…at first, I thought this was the right thing to do, I did," he said softly. He could hear Daniel's breath over the phone. He sounded a little stuffy, but the soft puffs were as comforting as a warm blanket. "But now I'm not sure. We're not accomplishing anything here, and you guys could be doing so much more out there."

"Too late now. It's been months. Sometimes it feels like we'll never reopen."

"You will," Jack said firmly, gripping his fingers into his hair. He'd thought that the opportunity for Daniel to say 'I told you so' would cheer him up, but clearly it wasn't. "You'll be out there again. I promise. Now go take an antihistamine and go to bed. It's past your bedtime, Dr. Jackson."

"Then it's definitely past yours, General," Daniel said, but he sounded a little calmer than he had when Jack had picked up the phone. "Goodnight, Jack."

"Night, Danny."

*

Daniel was sitting in the commissary with Sam and Mitchell when Dr. Lam stomped in, heading toward the coffee pot like a heat-seeking missile. Daniel looked at Mitchell and raised his eyebrows, and the other man shrugged.

"Carolyn." Mitchell coughed awkwardly, but it got the doctor's attention as she stomped back towards the door. "You alright?"

"They're taking my staff," she said, viciously pulling over a chair and sitting down. Daniel was glad he didn't have a physical scheduled with the woman anytime soon.

"I thought they were only transferring the 'gate teams," Sam said, but Dr. Lam shook her head.

"Someone decided that I didn't need as many nurses and doctors while everyone here is grounded," Lam replied. "I only just found out. They're transferring about half of my nursing staff and all of the doctors who aren't civilians. It's just going to be me and Dr. Warner by the end of the week."

"What happens when they reopen the 'gate?" Daniel asked.

"Does that look like it's going to be happening anytime soon?" Lam said. Daniel knew the woman had a problem with the military; he wondered why she chose to work for them. "I've been told I'll get them all back 'when the program resumes normal function', but no one's saying when that'll be."

Daniel looked across at Mitchell again. As Landry's second-in-command, he was most likely to have some idea of what was going on. He shrugged, grimacing. "We're still fightin' it, and I know the General's a thorn in everyone's side out in Washington, but no one's budging. That special committee the UN put together is too busy goin' around their elbow to get their thumb. No decisions there. And sometimes it seems like the IOA isn't even bothering to go to bat for us. You'd almost think they didn't want us to reopen."

"What about Atlantis?" Daniel asked, leaning forward. He still regretted the fact that he'd never been able to spend more than a few days there, but now he had more important things to worry about.

"We're still checking in, but we're not sending anymore supplies or personnel," Mitchell said. "No one really wants to talk about them, in case the diplomats and politicians decide to recall them, too. We all know how well that went." Everyone around the table nodded. "Atlantis is pretty self-sufficient by now. Colonel Sheppard is speeding up the switch to Wraith stunners, but beyond ammo there's not much more they need from us."

"They need personnel," Daniel said. "The turnover in Atlantis is even higher than it usually is around here."

Mitchell nodded. "The General's negotiating with the IOA to start sending the _Daedalus_ back and forth again, but that's going about as well as you'd expect."

"Figures," Daniel said, and he could see Sam nodding in his peripheral vision.

Lam stood, coffee cup in hand. "Well, I have to break the news to my staff. Wish me luck." She continued out of the commissary, a little calmer, but Daniel still thought there was murder in the set of her shoulders.

"What's happening with Teal'c and the other alien liaisons?" Sam asked. "It's been months since he's been able to go to the Free Jaffa council."

"They still won't let us open the 'gate from our side," Mitchell said. "I think Teal'c's about a month away from hijacking a ship, and I don't blame him. This is getting ridiculous."

"It started out ridiculous," Daniel said. "There's got to be something more we can do."


	5. Chapter 5

"Oh, don't give me that look," Daniel said when Sam walked into his office and closed the door. "I can't take any more bad news."

"It's not bad news." By the way her eyes scrunched up at the corners, he knew that she didn't believe it, either. "I'm running out of things I can do here."

"Now that's not true and you know it," Daniel said. "Where are they sending you? Washington? Oh, tell me it's not the Antarctica base."

"No, thank God," Sam said, and Daniel relaxed minutely. Sam had very carefully avoided going to the Ancient outpost as much as she could, and he couldn't blame her, considering her history with the continent. "They're setting up a new Area 51, and they want me to head up the new R&amp;D."

"Isn't it a bit soon?" Daniel asked. "And anyway, what are you going to work on? I thought everything was either destroyed or still here."

"There was some offsite storage that survived, so they want people working on that," Sam said. "And there are some upgrades I've been wanting to do on the 302s, I can work on those." But Daniel can see that she was stretching, that she wasn't happy either. It was so strange; four years ago all they'd wanted to do was escape this place, and now neither of them wanted to leave. "This isn't goodbye," she added softly.

"Yes, it is," Daniel said. "You know as well as I do that the more of us they relocate, the easier it'll be for them to shut us down for good. We should be out there, talking to people, showing them that this isn't something to be afraid of. We're cowering, letting scared _politicians_"—the word was practically a curse, but it wasn't like they'd ever had much luck with them—"push us around and bury us. We're right, this time; we shouldn't have to defer to small-minded people anymore."

"I know," Sam said, "but there's nothing I can do. You're lucky, they can't actually make you go anywhere. At least I'm not being sent overseas," she offered, and Daniel had to admit that she had a point. "So, if…something happens, at least I'll be able to come back without too much hassle."

"Small favors," Daniel said, frowning. "They really ordered you to go?"

"As good as," Sam said. "They pointed out that I wasn't actually assigned to the SGC anymore; I'd been assigned to Area 51 before the battle. General O'Neill…implied that there'd be trouble from _his_ higher-ups if I didn't go."

"And I bet they're…strongly suggesting a bunch of your scientists go with you," Daniel said.

"Not right away, but it's only a matter of time. They're setting up Quonset huts for us for right now, but once there are some more permanent buildings there's going to be more of a push for people to relocate."

"Tell me I'm not the only one who's deeply worried about this," Daniel said.

"No, it's not just you," Sam admitted. "But there's not much we can do about it. The world governments are still refusing to do anything besides talk at each other, and there's nothing unusual about moving people if they're needed somewhere else. On paper, at least," she added quickly. "It's just that it's all happening so fast. I don't really know what to think."

"Let me know when I can come over and help you pack," Daniel said, and Sam smiled slightly "We'll keep in touch. Keep an eye out for anything that can't be explained away quite so easily."

*

Sam could tell that Daniel had something on his mind the moment he walked in the door, but she could tell he wouldn't come around to talking about it until he was ready. Instead, she just gestured to the pile of empty cardboard boxes. "I was thinking we could start with the books."

"I'm sure that'll take all day," Daniel replied, smiling slightly. Sam was worried to see that the smile didn't reach his eyes. "Where do you want to start?" She gestured to the nearest set of shelves, and they got to work.

It was close to half an hour before Daniel spoke again. "They've offered me a transfer," he said, speaking to the book of particle physics in his hands rather than to her. "I just got the e-mail this morning."

"Where to?" She had a sinking feeling she knew where, but she needed to hear it from him.

"Atlantis," he said, with that tight smile. To Sam, he looked infinitely sad. "They've got a space on the _Daedalus_' next trip for me, if I want it."

"Are you going to go?" Sam asked softly, stilling. The cover of the book in her hands was blurred; a few states away was nothing on moving to another galaxy.

"I don't see how I can," Daniel said. "I mean, on the one hand, Atlantis is, uh, it's my dream, Sam. But on the other, it's clearly a way for _someone_ to get me out of the way." He shook his head, and she reached over to rest a hand on his shoulder. "I'm not one to exaggerate my worth to the Program, but people are being transferred in droves, and as soon as someone protests they're gone. You're going to Area 52, Mitchell's been offered a position back with the Snakeskinners, but he's giving them the run-around since there isn't actually space for him. And now I'm being offered something I've been trying to get for years. I worry it's not all it seems to be."

"Have you spoken to General O'Neill about it?"

"He said the offer came from the IOA, over his usual objections." He put the book in the nearest box and started to struggle with folding the panels together to close it. "He's starting to get worried, too, about the transfers, and his opinion of where I should be hasn't changed." They shared a smile. She knew O'Neill wanted Daniel at the SGC to keep them honest, to be a voice of civilian reason in the middle of their occasionally militaristic mindset.

"I'm not the only one being offered their dream positions, you know," Daniel said. "Mary Newkirk and John Stolink were offered funding to work on a prehistoric site in Japan. And the rest of my archaeology staff is going to Egypt to do a survey of Giza that's going to support that paper of mine that got me into this mess in the first place."

Sam couldn't help but smile at that one. "It is nice to finally get public validation for your theories, isn't it?" she asked.

It was clear Daniel was torn. "I'd trade it for the knowledge of what's really going on right now," he said after a minute. He reached for the next shelf of books and started packing them quickly, not even bothering to look at the titles. "I'm not embarrassed to admit it, I'm scared. I'm used to knowing who my enemy is."

"I know Landry's told us to keep our heads down," Sam began cautiously, and Daniel's head jerked up so fast she was worried he'd hurt himself. "But I can't imagine the harm in you flying to Washington and sitting in on a meeting or two. I'm sure they can spare you for a few days, and I'd bet General O'Neill would appreciate the company."

She was gratified to see that that got a real smile out of him. "That might be a good idea," he said slowly, so Sam knew his brain was already going a mile a minute making plans. "And I'm sure I can take a few days vacation if Landry doesn't okay me going out there."

"And maybe you'll see something we've missed." She looked around at all the packing they still had to do and sighed. "Let's get working on this. If we finish this room in time for dinner, I'll treat you to sangria at that Tex Mex place you like."

With a little of the hesitation he used to show back when they'd first met, he reached over and wrapped an arm around her shoulders for a moment. "I have to keep hoping that it's all going to be okay."

*

"Jack, I don't know how you stand it," Daniel said, walking to Jack's office and throwing his jacket onto the visitor chair. "They're so infuriating."

Shaking his head, Jack stepped up behind him and straightened the jacket to keep it from wrinkling. "Don't I know it," he said. "The only way I survive is fantasies of how I'd kill them and hide the bodies. I—" The phone rang and Jack picked it up. He was frowning when he put the receiver back in the cradle. "Daniel, put your tie and jacket back on."

"I thought we were done with meetings for today," he said, but he picked up his jacket, anyway.

"We were," Jack said, reaching over to straighten Daniel's tie, blushing when Daniel threw him a heated look. "But President Taylor just requested our presence in his office." Daniel's mouth fell open, and Jack gently pushed his jaw back up. "You can do the guppy look later." Daniel punched him in the arm, and he grinned. They hurried out to the parking lot, where a car was already waiting for them.

"He couldn't have 'requested our presence' while we were still in Washington?" Daniel asked, climbing into the car. "In this traffic, it'll take us a while to get back into the city."

"He's the President of the United States," Jack said, chuckling. "He's kind of allowed to assume that we're at his beck and call." Daniel shook his head and Jack reached over to ruffle his hair, laughing when Daniel pushed his hand away with a pissy look. "Oh, Daniel, what did we do to you that you now think the President should conform to your schedule?"

"You made me old and cranky," he said, fixing his hair in the reflection of the tinted window. "It happens to all of us. Some more than others," he added, glancing at Jack.

Jack thought he was perfectly justified in pinching him on their way out of the car.

They didn't have long to wait when they finally got to the White House, Daniel thought as they hurried down the hall. He'd been to the Oval Office once or twice while Hayes was still President, so he wasn't surprised when Jack stopped them outside to make sure that they were both presentable, tugging on his jacket to straighten the shoulders and tweaking the fall of his tie. It reminded Daniel of a thousand missions, and calmed him a little. For the sake of appearances, he rolled his eyes, but he decided to save the comments about how he could dress himself.

Jack nodded to the secretary as they passed and went right through into the office, though he paused for a moment outside the door before going in. President Taylor was reading a packet of papers on his desk when they came in, but looked up immediately. "Doctor Jackson," he said, standing and rounding the desk to shake Daniel's hand. He had a slightly floppy handshake, Daniel was surprised to find. "I've been waiting to meet you."

"Mr. President." At Jack's almost invisible urging, he added, "Thank you for inviting me."

"Not a problem." Taylor turned away, waving his hand dismissively. Daniel realized he was in his shirtsleeves, collar unbuttoned, his jacket and tie tossed over one of the ubiquitous couches. He turned back to face them, leaning back on the front of the desk. "I had a feeling you needed to talk."

"Sir?" Daniel asked, unsure what the man was talking about. He didn't have to look behind him to realize that Jack had suddenly gone still, listening.

"At the meeting," Taylor said. His demeanor was very casual, arms crossing his chest and leaning one hip on the desk. It was confusing Daniel's instincts. "A couple of times you looked like you were about to explode."

"I thought it would be best for me to keep quiet," Daniel said carefully. "I'm very close to the situation, of course, I'm sure I'm biased. Plus, diplomacy isn't my strongest suit."

Taylor's laugh surprised him. "Don't sell yourself short, Doctor Jackson. I've read the mission reports, I know you made as many diplomatic ties as the diplomatic teams, or set the foundations for the agreements they eventually made. I know we only had the Asgard on our side because of the involvement of you and General O'Neill." He glanced over Daniel's shoulder, to where Daniel guessed Jack was standing. "You could probably teach that room of overgrown children at the UN a few things about peaceful negotiation."

The compliments rang false to Daniel. Maybe he was just unused to being acknowledged for his involvement, maybe it was just that there were so many of them in a relatively short period of time, almost as if Taylor was buttering him up for something. Still, the President seemed receptive, so Daniel decided that it was worth a shot. "I'm sure Jack told you I came to make sure that the SGC's interests are being served."

Taylor chuckled and shook his head. "The SGC is just a tool, Daniel. May I call you Daniel?" Daniel hesitated and then nodded. "Good. Anyway, the SGC is just a tool. It's you and the other people there that are so important. Does it really matter where you are, as long as you continue the good work you've been doing?"

"Forgive me, but I don't see how one of our geological survey teams can continue their work while deployed in Iraq," Daniel said, barely able to maintain his conversational tone. He'd been having this argument with Landry, with Jack, with IOA representatives and members of the Joint Chiefs. He was getting tired of it. "I'm sure the view is different from the outside, but from inside the SGC it just seems like we're being dismantled. For good."

"But maybe that's for the best," Taylor said, with an easy smile that set Daniel's teeth on edge. "The galaxy is safe now, isn't it? Maybe we should be focusing on our own problems here on Earth. The conflicts in the Middle East were a mistake, we all know that. Poverty, disease, these are all pretty urgent problems. Shouldn't we be focusing on our planet before we go out to subjugate the galaxy?"

"We're not conquerors," Daniel said, abandoning any pretext of friendly discussion. "We've helped on planets that were abandoned by their Goa'uld _slave masters_, or were left leaderless when we killed the creatures that had subjugated _them_. We traded equal value with groups that had resources we needed. Technology or medicine, Mr. President, not beads and rattles. If they didn't need our help, we left them alone. Our goal was the betterment of the galaxy, not taking whatever we wanted for the glory of God and the Good Old U S of A." Daniel felt Jack lay a hand on his arm, but ignored him.

"I think that's enough," Taylor said. His tone was still light, but there was steel in his eyes. And something else, but Daniel was too angry to do more than take note of it. "Thank you, gentlemen. I think that'll be all."

Daniel felt Jack tug his arm and let himself be lead out of the room. He fumed silently as Jack lead him through the maze of hallways to where their car was parked. "You don't know how badly I've wanted to do that," Jack said when they were on the road, and Daniel looked at him, confused. "I know the IOA said you guys should keep a low profile, but I've been wanting to scream for weeks. Thanks for letting me at least experience it vicariously."

"Ooh, big word there," Daniel teased, forcing himself to calm down. "Are you sure you're my Jack?"

"You betcha," Jack said, glancing at him at a stoplight. "I was thinking we could just head home. I can return the car in the morning."

"Sounds good," Daniel said, reclining the seat slightly and closing his eyes. "Wake me up when we get there."

*

"I don't trust this guy," Daniel said, leaning his head on Jack's chest, high up near his shoulder. "I don't care if he's the typical white, male, farm-raised, wholesome, Vietnam vet, worked his way through school, secular-ish Christian that people seem to prefer these days. It makes no sense. Hayes was popular enough. And then Taylor decides to run—a minor Senator, and there's clips of him saying he'd never seek higher office!—and people start fawning over him."

"Daniel, it's not like he appeared out of nowhere," Jack said. "He'd served two terms in the Senate, and something like two more in the state Senate before that. He's a young guy. He's a cosigner on a number of bills already. He's kind of the definition of up-and-coming."

"I don't know, Jack." Daniel huffed out a breath and squeezed the bridge of his nose. "I just have a bad feeling about all of it. Especially after talking to him today. There was something…wrong about him."

"I wouldn't call what you did _talking_, per se," Jack said, and Daniel slapped him on the arm.

Daniel rolled his eyes, but he knew he couldn't protest that one. "Call me paranoid, but I really don't like it."

"You are paranoid," Jack said, wrapping an arm around Daniel's shoulders. "But I guess you learned it from me. I've still got some connections at the FBI, I'll see if I can get someone to poke around."

"Thanks," Daniel said, reaching over to grab the remote. Jack tensed, but Daniel clicked on the hockey game instead of that special on the History Channel he'd been talking about for days. It looked like Jack had done good.


	6. Chapter 6

"Agent James."

Jack smiled against the phone receiver. He'd recognize that gruff voice anywhere. "Hiya, Tom," he said.

"Jack! What a surprise," Agent Thomas James said. "How've you been? Heard you made General a while back."

"Crazy, right?" Jack said, and Tom laughed. "How's the wife and kids?"

"Glad I don't do much fieldwork anymore," Tom said. "Though, I've been thinking of consulting on the side. Paying for college is a nightmare. But you didn't call to hear about my domestic woes."

"Guilty as charged," Jack admitted. "Though you and Helen and the kids should come by sometime, now that I'm in Washington. My postage stamp of a backyard is just about big enough for a hibachi," he added with chagrin, and Tom laughed.

"You got it, Jack," he said. "Now, why did you call? It's got to be more interesting than the paperwork I'm doing."

"Almost certainly. Is this a secure line?"

"Ah, not really."

"Can you get to one?"

"Yeah, but it'll take some…call you back in five?"

"Gotcha," Jack said. He gave Tom the number to his direct line. He hung up the phone, picking it up on the first ring when it rang exactly five minutes later.

"What the hell is this about, Jack?" Tom asked. "I'm not going to enjoy the paperwork I'm going to have to fill out to explain why a desk-flying supervisor needed a secure, off-the-record line."

"What do you know about Stargate Command?" Jack asked.

"Just what everyone else knows," Tom said. "Alien device, travel to other planets, big honking space war. It sounds like something my son watches on TV."

"He watches _Wormhole X-treme_?"

"Yeah, actually," Tom said. "He keeps telling me that Colonel Danning and Doctor Levant are 'doing it'. Kids these days, right?"

Jack choked a little at that one, but got over it. "Tell him the show creator is an alien."

"Seriously?"

"Oh, yeah," Jack said, grinning. "Refugee. We didn't even realize he was here for a while."

"I don't know how you can say this stuff with a straight face."

"Sometimes, neither do I," Jack said. "Seriously, though, I need you to look someone up for me."

"Another one of your aliens?" Tom teased.

"Someone a little closer to home," Jack said, wincing. "Michael Taylor."

Jack could all but hear Tom's jaw drop. "Michael Taylor, the President of the United States? Jack, you want me to do a background check on the President?"

"One of my…ah, colleagues has a bad feeling about him," Jack said. "It's just a hunch, but the smug bastard tends to be right, so I told him I'd look into it."

"And that brought you to me?" Tom sighed. "Jesus, Jack, you never did like the simple problems, did you?"

"Nope."

"Alright, I'll see what I can do. Give me a few weeks. And you definitely owe me so big for this," he said. "More than just barbeque. You'll be paying for this one a long time."

*

Daniel waited in the pick-up lane outside of the airport for the base motorpool car to arrive. Sam had driven him to the airport, and there wasn't anyone left for him to ask to drive him home. The car arrived and he asked the airman to just drive him to the base. His car was in the lot there, and since his flight out of Washington had been just past the redeye period, it was still only mid-morning. The car ride was quiet, and Daniel thanked the airman as he got out. He knew he was getting old, but when had the lowest-ranking soldiers gotten so _young_?

Daniel didn't run into anyone as he took the elevator down to eighteen and walked to his office, laptop bag hanging from one shoulder and garment bag clenched in the opposite hand. His footsteps echoed in an unfamiliar way. Even at night, there used to be enough people wandering the halls to keep the place from feeling this empty. The base had the same forlorn, empty feeling of a school during summer, as if it were just waiting for all the people to come back. He knew there were still people on other floors—the remaining teams in their offices or in the gym, a few anthropologists and linguists in their labs, a skeleton crew in the infirmary and commissary—but at that moment it was easy to believe that he was the only person in the entire base.

He was still surprised at how empty the place was, even though it had been like this for months. With so many teams and personnel transferred, and the base pared down to the bare bones, it was much harder to forget that he was miles underground. Being away just drove the feeling home even more.

Daniel unlocked the door to his office and went inside, turning on lights and the computer as he went. He hung up his garment bag on the open door and unpacked the laptop case, removing the computer and the books he'd packed for the flight. He'd spent a large, intense portion of his life inside these concrete walls, and really was more of a home than any of the succession of apartments he'd rented at the same time.

Sitting down at the desk, Daniel dropped his head into his hands. He didn't even know why he'd stayed: he was almost done with his backlog (amazingly), and it seemed like the rest of his family was gone: Jack to Washington, Sam to Nevada. Even Teal'c, trapped in the mountain though he was, seemed far away; the man locked himself away for days at a time, refusing to talk to anyone, even the people who were campaigning to reopen the 'gate so he could see his family or help with the Jaffa council or _something_. It made Daniel wonder—not for the first time—if taking Teal'c away from Chulak had been a good idea in the first place.

He reached for the phone and then paused, looking at the clock. He couldn't call Jack; the man would be in meetings still. It amazed him, too, how much he missed the constant annoyance of Jack's daily visits. His artifacts hadn't been menaced by the man in far too long.

Just as Daniel was debating simply going home, Mitchell poked his head in the door. "Good, you're back," he said, walking in without being invited. "I'm drafting you to come have coffee with me. At that coffee shop you like off-base. The commissary is so empty, it echoes."

Daniel couldn't help but smile at the memory of another team leader doing the exact same thing. He shrugged and stood. "Sure."

"You know, all work and no play—" Mitchell stopped, dumbfounded. "Wait, you mean you're actually coming? No deadlines, no work to do?

Daniel shook his head. "I think Uncle Sam can spare me a few minutes to grab coffee." Mitchell's grin reminded him that not _all_ of his family was spread to the four winds. "You're treating, though."

*

"Jack." He was surprised to hear Tom's voice the moment he picked up the phone. He wasn't expecting to hear from the man so soon. "Where are you?" Tom asked. To anyone else, he would have sounded perfectly calm, but from long experience Jack could tell that there was something wrong.

"Home. Anything wrong?"

"I'm not sure," Tom said. "I've been working on that…project for you, and while I haven't found anything interesting yet, I've been having some trouble."

He knew Tom; the other man didn't scare easily and wouldn't have mentioned the research he was doing for Jack unless it was very important. "Anything I can do?"

"I'm not sure, and that worries me," Tom said. "There've been inquiries at work, and Helen saw a pair of guys watching the house a few days ago. I'm not even sure what agency they were from. And I picked the twins up from school early today, and there was someone watching the school, too. I think they were NID."

"Crap," Jack said. "Tom, it's not that important. Stop if you want to."

"No, there's definitely something going on," Tom said. "Everything I've found so far is perfectly normal and above board. There's no reason for this kind of response. Why wouldn't I just get a slap on the wrist for poking around at the President without orders?"

"Maybe an outside agency doesn't want to tip its hand to your boss?" Jack said. Tom made a non-committal noise. "The first whiff of anything really bad and you drop it. I mean it," he added emphatically.

"Who are you to command me, Captain?" Tom said, and Jack smiled slightly. "Want to have that barbeque this weekend? You should see the kids; Cody's probably taller than you are now."

"I remember when that kid needed help reaching doorknobs." Five or seven years ago, hearing about someone else's kids growing up would have made him angry or upset, but now it only made him a little wistful for what Charlie had never had. Jack allowed the moment to happen, and then let it go. "How about Saturday? I'll do the steaks, you take care of the fixin's."

"As long as you don't burn them," Tom said. "Seeya, Jack."

"Stay safe, Tom."

"Worrywart," Tom said. "But thanks." Jack heard the click as Tom hung up and closed his cell. Tom was being watched? That couldn't be a good sign. Not at all.


	7. Chapter 7

"Mitchell?" Jackson asked, around the doorframe of Cam's office.

Cam fumbled to minimize his game of Solitaire. "Hey, Jackson," he said, nodding towards the other chair. "What brings you to my humble hole in the ground?"

Jackson didn't sit, and his sour expression didn't change. "Any idea what happened to Adams and Gillespie? They're usually on duty at the crossover from NORAD at this time of the morning."

Cam sighed and sat forward, leaning his elbows on the desk. "The Joint Chiefs ordered a rotation of the base guards. Most of 'em are being sent to other postings, and they're cutting down the overall number of personnel. Apparently we were overdue," he added, frowning.

"And why does it matter, now that we're barely doing anything?" Jackson asked.

"Well, we need the guards just in case anythin' happens, but we don't need as many," Cam said.

"But I've seen new people," Jackson said. "They're not just relocating people, they're replacing them."

Cam shrugged. "It does happen. The military moves people around a lot, always has."

"Yeah, but it's weird timing for it," Jackson said, and Cam had to agree. He'd tried to hint as much to General Landry, but it hadn't gone anywhere. "Can we trust them?"

"Can we trust anyone?" Cam asked wearily. He could fly planes and explore new planets. He wasn't cut out for this kind shell game.

"I don't like living in a spy novel," Jackson said, with a pout a four-year-old would have been proud of.

Cam smiled despite himself. "Neither do I."

*

"We have a problem," Daniel said as soon as the other side picked up. "Big—big problem. Huge problem."

"Whoa, Daniel, slow down," Jack said. "Did you run out of coffee during a translation binge again?"

"This isn't funny, Jack," Daniel said harshly. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "My staff is disappearing."

"They've been transferring people for weeks; don't tell me you only just noticed. That's oblivious even for you. Are you alright?"

"Just peachy," Daniel said, slamming his fists on the table. There was no doubt that he loved Jack, but sometimes he wanted to kill the man. "Nyan was transferred to the new Area 51 a week ago, to work on translating the text on some device that was in storage. But Sam hasn't seen him, not even in the cafeteria or anything, and she went poking around…there's no record of his transfer."

"Carter hacked the Area 51 database?" Jack asked. He couldn't help being impressed.

"She didn't have to," Daniel said. "She's in charge of R&amp;D, it was all right out there to see—or not, as the case may be. No record of his airfare or local residence or moving his belongings or anything. It's like he just fell off the face of the Earth."

"Maybe it's just a technical glitch," Jack suggested, but it was obvious he didn't believe it either.

"I already thought of that, but he's not the only one who's gone missing," Daniel said, and he could finally hear Jack shut up and listen. "Remember that pair of physicists from P4X-853? The same thing happened. And then I broadened my search, and I found that the non-Terran human refugees we've settled on Earth have been disappearing, too."

"Wow," Jack said. "That…that's huge."

"That's what I said."

"Send me a copy of the data you've collected," Jack said. "I'll look into it. I might be able to shake a few people, see what comes loose."

"Thanks," Daniel said, and he could imagine the way Jack would wave it off. "Now do you believe me that there's something going on?"

"You aren't always right, you know," Jack said, mock-testily, and Daniel smiled. "I still don't know if Taylor has anything to do with it."

"Neither do I," Daniel admitted. "But this has to go way up, and we've got a whole bunch of other problems if Taylor _isn't_ aware. What about your friend, has he turned up anything?"

"He hasn't gotten back to me with anything conclusive yet," Jack said. "I was going to give him a call. I can ask him to look into this, too."

"Good," Daniel said. "I always thought we were saving people, bringing them here. I'd never forgive myself if we just opened them up to exploitation and abuse by our people, instead of their own."

"We'll get to the bottom of this, Daniel," Jack said. "I promise." Oddly, that was enough to reassure Daniel a little. "Do me a favor, though? Tell Reynolds that I finally finished reading that Alistair MacLean novel he kept bothering me about. _Guns of Navarone_. Tell him I liked the book better than the movie."

"Oh?" Daniel asked. "I would have thought that spy novels would seem too much like real life for you."

"Not now, Daniel," Jack said, and while anyone listening would have thought that Jack was just stopping Daniel from picking on him, Daniel knew there was something else going on.

"Sure, Jack, no problem." Daniel wondered what could be so secret that it couldn't be shared on the secure line from the SGC to Homeworld. But considering what had happened over the last few weeks, maybe nowhere was safe.


	8. Chapter 8

It had taken over a year, but Vala was finally allowed off the base on her own. Sure, she wasn't permitted to drive herself—she'd been badgering Daniel to teach her for weeks, though now it looked like she'd have to switch her target to Teal'c—but at least she didn't have to suffer guards. She liked to discomfort people, but sometimes a woman wants to go underwear shopping in peace. It had taken some persuading, especially of Daniel and Muscles, but she'd managed to convince them she'd be fine. She had the adorable, fresh-faced airman drop her off at the food court and gradually worked her way down the mall's main drag to her target.

She was poking through a rack of shirts (no fashionista can resist a sale, no matter _what_ planet she's from) when she realized someone was following her. And not even subtly. The man's rigid posture immediately made him stick out, and he didn't even seem to be there with a woman. Vala didn't _think_ he was shopping for himself in the women's section, but stranger things had happened. She filed his presence away, but kept going.

When they left the store, he ducked into a cross-branch, and Vala thought she saw him pull a cell phone out of his pocket. She wanted to dismissed it as paranoia, but something felt very wrong. She continued down the plaza, but she was more alert to her surroundings.

When she was done, two pink-striped bags in hand, she called for her ride. It was a lovely day, so she went to sit on one of the benches out by the parking lot. The place was pretty deserted. She closed her eyes and tipped her face up to catch the sunlight.

"Ma'am," a gravely voice said, accompanying a tap on her shoulder. She opened her eyes. It was the man from the store…and he wasn't alone. "I'm going to have to ask you to come with us."

"And who, exactly, are you?" Vala said, keeping her tone light. This brought back distinctly unpleasant memories—especially the black van that was approaching them from across the lot—but she forced them down. They wouldn't help her.

"That's none of your concern," he said. He wrapped a meaty hand around her arm and pulled her to her feet. "I won't ask again."

"I'm sorry, I was under the impression that this was a free country," Vala said. She glanced around quickly. There were three of them, plus who knew how many others in the van, and there wasn't anyone around who could help. And it was about a half an hour drive from the mountain, assuming they left right after she'd called. She'd been sitting for most of that, sure, but three bruisers like that could do a lot of damage in a few minutes. "I guess I was wrong."

She let the guy pull her sideways and then slammed her heel down onto his foot, taking advantage of the four-inch spike. He yelped and loosened his grip just enough to let her wrench her arm free and spin around. The second guy reached for her but he'd been a few steps behind and out of reach. There was no way she could beat all three of them—not without either help or a weapon—so she ran, rounded the driveway and taking off across the parking lot. She kicked off her shoes mid-stride, pausing just long enough to pick them up. She could get a good stab at someone's eye if she needed to. But the van was speeding up and she was running out of time.

A car came roaring up from the opposite direction and swerved as it reached her, the passenger door swinging open. "Ms. Mal Doran, is everything alright?" the airman said, but he hadn't finished the sentence before she'd jumped into the car and slammed the door.

"No, darling, it's not." She couldn't tell if the man was serious, but if he was she certainly needed to ask for a smarter driver. Well, he did get to her before they did, she should be more charitable. "They're getting more daring, whoever they are." The airman didn't comment, but she didn't expect him to.

"Oh, damn," she said suddenly, and the airman glanced at her. "I forgot my underwear."

*

"Higgins," the unfamiliar voice on the other end of the line said, and Jack frowned.

"I'm sorry, must have misdialed the extension," he said, putting on the amiable idiot façade that had gotten him much too far in life. "I was looking for Agent James. He was looking something up for me. Oh, I'm General Jack O'Neill, serial number—"

"I know how you are, General, sir," Higgins said, and Jack detected a slight note of scorn flavoring his words, maybe in the way the 'sir' was almost an afterthought. "Agent James hasn't been to work in a couple of days."

"And no one thought that was odd?" Jack asked, tone gone steely.

"We got an e-mail saying he was taking a last-minute vacation," Higgins said, and Jack could all but see the other man's shrug. "He's been under a lot of pressure lately, because of his connections to the SGC and all."

"Thank you, Agent," Jack said, hanging up the phone. This was too much of a coincidence. Maybe Daniel was right. Jack was planning to start worrying now.

*

"Okay, I think we're ready to try this," Sam said, and Dr. Farrell nodded from his observation booth. "I'm setting the countdown and then I'll join you behind the protective glass."

"Is there likely to be explosion large enough to be a concern?" Farrell said into the microphone. They were in the first reinforced lab that had been constructed at the new Area 51 site. There were four such labs now, plus a couple dozen offices and storage rooms. Sam had lost colleagues and friends in the destruction of the first site, and the speed at which the place was being rebuilt made her a little queasy.

"No, but it's best to be safe," Sam said. "Alright, setting the countdown for 30 seconds." She plugged appropriate numbers and codes into the control pad and then went through the steel-reinforced door to the observation room. "If this works, it will completely change the 302's propulsion systems."

Carmichael, her aide, popped his head in the door. "Colonel Carter, phone for you." She didn't like the man—she felt like he was spying on her—but he was always overly polite, and now his expression was sour.

"Farrell, you can watch this yourself?" she asked, and he nodded. She stepped out of the lab and took the phone Carmichael had dragged from her office down the hall. "Carter."

On the other end, Daniel's voice was tight and worried. "Sam, thank God. Something's happened to—"

The explosion was so strong it blew the lab door right through the observation room and slammed it into the opposite wall. "Farrell!" Sam dropped the phone and ran to the doorway, but she couldn't see through the billowing smoke. From the heat, something was clearly on fire. "Carmichael, get medics and a fire team down here right now. Farrell!"

She felt completely helpless as she waited for the fire rescue teams to go in. From the frown of the medic who came right back out, she knew it wasn't good. "The explosion was very powerful," he said, and Sam couldn't help thinking 'Duh'. "It would have been quick, at least." She hated that phrase.

How could this have happened? They hadn't been working with anything that volatile, certainly not in those quantities. At most there could have been a small fire, not a blast large enough to blow a man apart and blast a door off its hinges.

There wasn't anything else she could do for the moment, and she remembered the phone on the floor. She could hear Daniel yelling as she picked it up. "Sorry, sorry," she said. "There was—there was an explosion in my lab. I'm fine. Farrell's dead."

"This has not been a good day, then," Daniel said, and Sam thought that was the understatement of the century. "It looks like someone wanted to get rid of Vala. Tried to kidnap her when she went to the mall."

Sam looked at the warped piece of metal that used to be the door to the lab and collapsed back against the wall, sliding down to sit on the floor. "I think I know the feeling."


	9. Chapter 9

Jack had only turned on the TV for the sake of some noise when he got home, but now he was staring at it intently. "…of four was killed last night in a car accident," the news anchor was saying, and there was a picture of Tom and his family in the corner of the screen. "Authorities say that the car skidded out due to wet road conditions from this week's rain. Thomas James was a researcher for the FBI. His wife, Helen James, was a high school teacher. Twins Cody and Cara were high school seniors set to attend UVA in the fall. Police would like to remind drivers to use safe driving practices on wet roads, including—" Jack shut off the TV and dropped his head into his hands.

Tom had been one of the few guys Jack had kept in touch with from his Special Ops days. He'd been…refreshingly sane, especially in comparison to most of the other nut jobs he'd worked with. Tom had been a few years older than Jack and he'd seemed indestructible, untouched by the horror of what they'd occasionally been called upon to do.

Jack had thought Tom would be safe, even if he'd stirred something up. And now he was dead, and Jack didn't believe for a minute that it had been an accident. The timing was just too coincidental: Tom disappeared for a few days, and as soon as someone (Jack) came looking for him, he showed up dead. And killing his family, too? This wasn't just getting someone out of the way. This was a warning.

And it was aimed at Jack.

Cursing under his breath, Jack tossed the remote onto the couch and went into the kitchen. He was leaning into the fridge to grab a beer when his cell phone started to ring. It was on the hall table, and though Jack went to grab it, the ringing had stopped by the time he got to the phone and flipped it open.

It was a text message, which was strange all by itself. He'd managed to convince pretty much everyone that he could barely figure out how to turn on his phone, much less use any of the more complicated functions. And the sending number was unavailable, which was even stranger. Jack opened the message.

_Check your e-mail, Jack._

Jack went to his computer and turned it on. There was nothing out of the ordinary in any of his three work addresses, not that he'd really expected it. Then he logged into his seldom-used personal account and there it was: a subject-less, blank message, sender unavailable, with a single, sizeless attachment.

Jack downloaded it, tapping his fingers against the bottle while he waited. When it was done, he double-clicked the icon and a dialogue box popped up, requesting a password. Jack thought for a moment. He had a feeling that he only had one shot at this, and he had to get it right.

Well, whoever had sent this obviously wanted him to receive it, and while the password was likely there to make sure no one else got at whatever it was, it was clearly meant for Jack. Based on the timing, Jack was willing to go out on a limb and guess that the attachment was from Tom. What password would Tom have used?

Unbidden, a snippet of a decades-old conversation popped into Jack's head. _Hey, O'Neill, anybody ever told you, you look exactly like that guy? Too bad_ you _can't build a bomb out of paperclips and baling wire!_ Jack smiled slightly at the memory. It was the second op he'd worked with Tom, just the two of them, it must have been 1986, maybe '87. It had spawned a nickname Tom had used every time they were on ops together, and Jack knew that it was what Tom would have used. Jack flexed his fingers, held his breath, and typed:

M-A-C-G-Y-V-E-R

With a deceptively-cheerful 'bing', the folder opened, page after page of documents opening on his screen. He waited until it was all done, the cursor blinking on the uppermost file, which was obviously a letter. _Jack_, it said, _If you're reading this, I'm most likely dead. I hope Helen and the kids are alright, but we both know the lengths to which certain people will go to keep a secret._

This file is programmed to send itself to you if I don't check in for five days. I'm not sure it says what you're expecting—hell, I don't know what _you're expecting—and while I wouldn't have thought it was something worth killing for, the fact that you're reading this letter proves me wrong._

Figure out what I died for.

Jack sat back from the computer, frowning. Somehow, this confirmation only made him feel worse. He looked at the clock, picked up the phone, and dialed.

"Jackson."

"Daniel, I need you on the first flight to Washington."

"Jack, what—"

"Not now, Daniel," he said firmly. "I'll tell you when you get here. We've got a big problem."

*

Daniel had no idea what to expect when he landed at National, but a smiling Jack meeting him at the gate wasn't it. "Danny! I'm so glad you could make it," Jack said, loping an arm around Daniel's shoulders and pulling him along. "I can't believe I didn't realize that exhibit was closing this weekend. I know you wanted to see it."

"Definitely," Daniel said, playing along. Oh, did he have questions to ask once they were at Jack's townhouse. "And anyway, when would I ever miss the chance to force you to go to a museum?"

Jack chuckled, but there was a tightness at the corner of his eyes that Daniel didn't like. He chattered on about nothing at all while they walked down to the parking lot and loaded Daniel's bags into the back of Jack's car. Daniel was always a little saddened to see Jack driving a sedan rather than a pick-up, but there really was no point to it as long as he was living in the city.

They didn't speak until they were out on the road. "Hank didn't give you any trouble, did he?" Jack asked quietly, eyes on the road.

"I just told him that you needed my help with something, and he let me go. I think he's just tired of me looking accusingly at him every time I pass his office."

Jack smiled briefly, but Daniel could tell that it was for show. "Tom's dead," he said without preamble. "My friend from the FBI."

"Oh God. What happened?"

"Car accident, according to the news. They killed his wife and kids," he added, and there was a choked quality to his voice.

"It's not your fault," Daniel said, laying a hand on Jack's knee. "You had no way of knowing."

"But I should have guessed," Jack said. "I asked him to go poking around, I knew something was up." His hands were white where they gripped the steering wheel. "And the info he got for me is so strange, I don't understand why they would have—"

"Is it safe to tell me here?" Daniel asked, squeezing Jack's knee to distract him.

Jack shrugged and continued regardless. "Tom set it up to send me the files if he didn't check in, but unless they've been tampered with, there's no evidence of anything incriminating. Taylor's exactly the same in the public and private versions of his file. His wife's got a yoga instructor or something, and Tom thinks they might be having an affair, but that's about it. I don't get it!" He sounded furious, and Daniel couldn't blame him. It was so senseless.

"I'll take a look at them," Daniel said. "Maybe I'll spot something you missed. You can't blame yourself for this," he added. "Tom knew the danger. And we'll make sure his sacrifice wasn't wasted." Jack shot him a thankful look at a spotlight and Daniel squeezed his knee again before removing his hand. He wasn't made for these kinds of spy games, but he'd do what he had to do.

*

Jack had the feeling that he would never lose the momentary sense of awe he got every time he stood in the receiving room outside of the Oval Office. He'd always been a patriotic man, and even three years of bureaucracy hadn't been able to rub the shine off the experience of being able to serve his country this way. Jack readjusted his tie irritably; the need to wear dress blues five days a week was chaffing, though.

"He'll see you now," the secretary said, and Jack took a deep breath and stepped forward, opening the door and stepping inside.

"Jack! Come on in," Taylor said, personable as always. The man always came across as friendly and informal, even in the confines of the Oval Office itself, but now that Jack was looking for it there was a definite _wrongness_ to his eyes. Jack just couldn't figure out what it was. "What can I do for you?"

"A couple of my contacts at the SGC and Area 51 have given me some rather disturbing information," Jack said, laying an envelope on the desk containing the research Daniel and Sam had done. It was hard to prove the _absence_ of something, but Jack thought his team had done a good job of it. "Did you know about this, sir?"

Taylor's amiable smile vanished. "I ordered it. I don't know what Hayes was thinking, but we shouldn't have let _aliens_ run loose on our planet."

"Sir, all non-Terran SGC personnel were carefully vetted before being given clearance," Jack said. He stood stiffly, but part of him wanted to fidget. "Many of them are integral to certain portions of the Program. And the refugees among the general populace are required to check in on a regular basis. We've been resettling people for over ten years; we've never had any problems. Where are they?"

"You've been lucky," Taylor said harshly. "You've been fighting to protect Earth from the alien menace all this time, you have no way of knowing these so-called refugees aren't just the prelude to invasion. I've decided to…correct that oversight."

"Where are they?" Jack repeated, deadly serious.

"Somewhere they can't cause any trouble," Taylor said with a triumphant smile. He took the envelope and tore it in half. "It's not like they were _human_, anyway."

"Yes, _sir_, they were," Jack said, horrified. "They may not have been born here, but most of those people were descended from people forcibly removed from this planet by the same monsters we spent eight years fighting. They're no different than people from another country."

"I beg to differ," Taylor said, "and that is the stance this administration will be taking."

"Don't think those are the only copies of those files," Jack said, gesturing to the torn papers Taylor was tossing in the wastebasket. It had been a long time since he'd had to play this kind of game. "The United States wouldn't summarily execute aliens. I've got a handful of reporters who'd _love_ to get their hands on a scoop like this." With Daniel and Carter's help, a brief was already set up and ready to go.

"The safety of this nation is at stake," Taylor said. "I'll do what I have to do to keep this country, this _planet_ safe and secure. No one is irreplaceable, Jack," he added, and the threat was blatant. "Don't do anything one of us might regret."

"Speak for yourself, _sir_," Jack said. He took a deep breath. "I need to think about…what I've learned today." And with alarm bells screaming in his head, he turned around and walked out of the office. He waited until he was down the hall to pull his phone from his pocked and dial Reynolds. "I changed my mind. I like the movie better."


	10. Chapter 10

"It's such short notice. It's not going to be much of a party," Daniel said, taking Jack's suitcase from the luggage carousel before the other man could get near it. Jack made an annoyed noise, but Daniel ignored him. He didn't remember Jack ever checking luggage on a trip to Colorado, but they had to at least pretend that he'd be sticking around this time.

"As long as there's cake, I don't really care," Jack said, and Daniel smiled. He looked for a moment like he was going to fight Daniel for the suitcase, but then shook his head minutely.

"So, you've really done it." He knew this was all part of _some_ plan that Jack had, but it still felt…odd. Daniel still didn't have words for how he felt about the whole situation.

"Signed, sealed, delivered," Jack said, smiling slightly. "A lot of people were surprised; they thought I'd stick around to see this fiasco through. And Davis did a damned good job pretending to be really, really angry with me for retiring on him. It was fun," he added with his trademark shit-eating grin.

"Is he going to be able to make it?" Daniel asked, glancing at him.

"He's leaving right after work tomorrow. Carter?"

"She got in right before you did," Daniel said. "And she was able to authorize pretty much everyone to come back from…Nevada. SG-13 is flying in from Germany, but we haven't been able to get anyone else who was deployed. The crew that wound up in Egypt will be flying back in tomorrow morning, but I think Dr. Newkirk and Dr. Stolink are going to be stuck in Japan."

"Too bad," Jack said. "You and Reynolds did a good job getting this together last-minute."

"Well, we knew it was coming, we just didn't know when." He wasn't sure if even Jack had planned to retire before this all went down, but it seemed like a good enough excuse that no one would question why so many former SGC-personnel were reuniting until they were halfway across the galaxy.

"Do you think retirement'll stick this time?" Daniel asked, making the familiar walk from the domestic terminal to the short-term parking. Daniel had a million questions to ask him, but he wasn't sure if there was anywhere safe to discuss it.

"I hope so," Jack said, his light tone at odds with the hardness of his eyes. "Think of it this way, though: moving in with you will pretty much keep them from trying to take me back."

Daniel stopped short so quickly that Jack got a few steps ahead of him. "That's the way we're playing this?" he asked softly, his heart thudding in his chest.

"Well, that's what I was thinking of doing," Jack said. He placed one hand on Daniel's shoulder, leaving it there for just a hair longer than was strictly appropriate under the rules Daniel had learned to live by. "If it's alright with you, of course."

"Y-yeah, sure," Daniel said. "I'd like that. Warn a guy, though?" he added, voice a little strangled, and Jack laughed. Daniel could tell it was forced.

Jack looped his arm through Daniel's elbow and pulled. "Come on, Dr. Jackson, I want to start celebrating my retirement in style."

*

Daniel was reading an article about archaeological evidence of women chiefs in the Native American tribes of the American southwest when a heavy weight laid itself over his shoulders, a pair of arms flopping down to cover the journal. "Jack," he protested, pushing ineffectually at one of Jack's elbows, "I was trying to read that."

"I don't know about you, but I had a very long couple of days and I'm tired," Jack said, leaning his head against the side of Daniel's, just hard enough to force his head to one side so Jack could pretend to use it as a pillow. "I got threatened by the President of the United States. Retired from the Air Force for what should hopefully be the last time. I set a mutiny in motion, with what should be a very nice party to start it off. I think I've earned the right to drag you to bed and have my way with you."

Daniel sighed and rolled his eyes in exaggerated annoyance, closing the journal. "Fine, if you insist," he said, with another, long-suffering sigh. He let Jack drag him down the hall to the bedroom and strip him out of his clothes. "You are so pushy," Daniel said, tumbling down onto the bed and pulling Jack down on top of him. He reveled in Jack's weight over him for a moment before rolling them over and catching Jack's wrists in one hand, pulling them up over Jack's head. "My turn."

Jack growled up at him but he didn't move. Daniel knew they _both_ knew Jack could break Daniel's grip in a moment, and he grinned. Jack got like this sometimes after an especially stressful day, and Daniel had guessed right. "Keep them up there," he said, pressing Jack's wrists against the bed and then letting go. He made short work of Jack's clothes, pausing occasionally to caress the skin he was baring. He would never get tired of the way Jack affected him, or the way he could make Jack feel, the trust Jack had for him. Daniel leaned down for a breathless kiss, and then reached for the night table drawer, looking to Jack for confirmation.

Jack nodded minutely, eyes hungry. He still had his fists pressed to the bed above his head, and Daniel couldn't help his smug smile. Yes, they'd both gotten older, but Daniel still thought that Jack's body, spread out naked in front of him, was one of the most beautiful sights in the galaxy. And for Daniel, that phrasing wasn't rhetorical.

"Spread your legs," Daniel said, shifting so he could kneel between Jack's thighs. Jack placed his feet flat on the bed, too, his knees lifted. Daniel smiled down at him, stroking one hand over Jack's abdomen, and then he leaned down and wrapped his lips around the head of Jack's cock.

Jack groaned and bucked his hips, and Daniel sat up quickly. "Don't move," he said firmly, and Jack visibly forced himself still. "Very good, Jack," Daniel said, and he bent down again to take Jack's cock into his mouth, wrapping one hand around the base.

One-handed, Daniel opened the tube of lube and squeezed some onto his fingers. He took Jack as deeply into his mouth as he could and pressed his fingers to Jack's hole, prepping him quickly. Jack was clearly doing everything he could to speed the process along. When Daniel had three fingers buried in Jack's body, he placed one last long lick over the head of Jack's cock and sat up.

"Ready, babe?" Daniel asked, and Jack nodded quickly. "Okay." Daniel shifted and lined himself up, pressing into Jack until he was all the way in, hips pressed tight against Jack's ass. He paused for a moment, pressing his forehead to Jack's shoulder. He felt a slight shift in the muscles under his face, and smiled. "You can move now," he said.

Jack made a choked sound and wrapped his arms around Daniel's shoulders, digging his fingers into the long muscles of Daniel's back. "If you don't move, I'm going to explode," Jack said breathlessly. "I mean, what a way to die, but…"

"I get your point," Daniel said, with a chuckle. He pushed himself up and wrapped his hands around Jack's hips. He pressed a kiss to one of Jack's upraised knees and then started to move, a slow, smooth withdrawal and then an equally smooth inward thrust.

Jack made a high, whining noise through his nose, and Daniel laughed throatily. He started to move more quickly, still using long, deep strokes. He shifted his hips slightly and Jack gasped, bucking against him. Daniel smirked; right on target.

Soon enough, Daniel was unable to keep up a steady rhythm. He shifted his weight to one arm so he could wrap his free hand around Jack's cock. A few strokes and Jack was coming, fingers digging into Daniel's back and shoulders. A few thrusts more and the contractions of Jack's muscles tipped Daniel over the edge—

_He sees the dark-haired woman again, and even though he can't see her face, he's sure that he knows her. It's like her identity is just on the edge of his mind, and he's just too hazy to be able to reach for it._

This time, she's kneeling, working on a device Daniel doesn't recognize. There's something familiar about it that he just can't place.

She doesn't seem to be working on the device, just checking on it. He expects its glowing panels to be blue, but instead they are a malevolent orange-red. He recoils from the wrongness of it, but then there's a noise and he turns to see—

—Jack didn't seem to realize that Daniel had zoned out for a moment, and he decided not to tell him. They both had enough to worry about. As soon as he stopped shaking, Daniel carefully pulled back, noting Jack's hiss. "You okay?" he asked, knowing he'd be more concerned if he wasn't so shaken.

"Fine," Jack said. "We just haven't done that in a while."

"Did I hurt you?" Daniel asked. He rolled off Jack completely and sat up, ignoring the still jelly-like feel to his muscles and the taste of _wrongness_ in his mouth.

Jack sat up as well and brought his hands up to cup Daniel's face. "No, you didn't," he said. "I promise." He kissed Daniel gently and sat back against the headboard. "If this is how my retirement is starting, I think I'm going to enjoy it a lot more this time."

Daniel smiled and leaned back, laying his head on Jack's hip. "I have a feeling we're only going to have a few hours of this kind of calm," he said.

"Probably," Jack replied. "But what's life without a little adventure?" He pressed his fingers into Daniel's hair. "And besides, you promised me cake."

*

Jack checked his watch for what he was sure was the tenth time in as many minutes, but he couldn't help it. Daniel had managed to throw together a pretty nice last-minute party, but everyone was too tense to really enjoy it. Under each of the tables were backpacks that had been packed gradually over the last few weeks, one per person, items they really couldn't live without. Jack knew there were probably a lot of family photos packed in those bags, but there wasn't much he could do about the people being left behind.

"It's time" Daniel said from over Jack's shoulder. He really was distracted if he hadn't heard Daniel approach.

Jack looked down at his watch and nodded. Eight minutes to the hour: change of the guard on level 28. This was the closest they would have to a head start.

Jack looked up at the control room where Walter was sitting all by himself. They'd had to cut the 'gate techs down to one on duty at a time, but it had been relatively simple to fiddle the schedule to make sure it was Walter. Jack regretted not being able to take the man with them, but someone had to stay behind. Reynolds had said that Walter had insisted that no one could be trusted to do it but him, and Jack had reluctantly agreed to let him do it.

"Walter, punch it!" Jack called up to the control room. Walter bent over the keyboard, starting the protocol Carter had been programming in her spare time. The 'gate room had mostly been cleared of guards for the party, and it was easy to shove the remaining ones into the hall as the blast doors closed—faster than normal—and locked into place. The protocol also shut down all the blast doors on levels 27 and 28, in the hope that no one would be able to get to the control room or the 'gate until they were already gone. The 'gate started to dial, and Reynolds and the other team leaders organized the people and supplies.

They started taking people through as soon as the 'gate connected, each team escorting a handful of civilians or medical staff. SG-1 was the last team through, though Daniel looked like he was going to linger. "Go, I'll be right there," Jack said.

Jack looked up at the control room again, just in time to watch Hank Landry trip down the last few stairs from the briefing room and skid over to the microphone. "O'Neill," he yelled into the mic. "What do you think you're doing?"

"What I have to," Jack said. "That's all we ever wanted to do. You keep the light on for us."

Landry shook his head. "Jack, you're crazy, you always have been," he said. Jack shot him a grin, but Landry frowned, and Jack could just barely hear the echo of crashing.

"That would be the task force that's been poised to take this place down, wouldn't it?" Jack asked. "Make sure they know you and Walter had nothing to do with this."

Walter looked about to protest, but then the Special Forces were pouring down the stair from the briefing room. Jack mentally cursed. He couldn't believe he hadn't told Carter to lock down 26 as well. He watched helplessly as Landry and Walter were forced to stand, hands on their heads. He met Landry's eyes and then, in a movement so quick the Special Forces goons had no hope of stopping, Landry leaned forward and pressed a button on the console in front of him. They were plunged into darkness for a second before the emergency lighting came on.

"Cooperate or we'll be forced to open fire," Jack heard one of the soldiers say, transmitted over the still active mic. Landry reached down—for what, Jack didn't know—and the soldier shot him twice in the chest.

Jack looked around, slightly dazed, but just enough with it to realize he didn't have time. He could hear the faint sounds of cursing and blowtorches from the other sides of the two blast doors. The sympathetic sensation of the bullet was still rocketing in his head. But the 'gate room was empty except for the abandoned party stuff, and it was time to go. He saluted to Walter and stepped through the 'gate, glad to lose himself in the momentary oblivion.


End file.
